were you there
by A1
Summary: The crucifixtion seen through the eyes of a modern girl. The note in chapter five explains why i choose to list it as "romance".
1. Default Chapter

Were you there when they crucified my lord? 

Were you there when they crucified my lord?

Oh, oooh, oh, oh, 

Sometimes it causes me to tremble, 

Tremble . . . 

Tremble . . .

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. The sky was black, the clouds swollen with rain ready to fall to the earth. There was a deep quiet. So deep that Kat could hear the beating of her heart.

She sat under the window on the couch, her eyes watching the dark clouds. Determinedly, she pushed the hard knot in her throat down, blinking her eyes. The house was empty. Mom and Dad, brothers and sisters were away shopping for Easter outfits. It was very still.

Then, little drops of rain began to pelt down from the clouds above. They became bigger and wetter until the rain was pouring down in torrents. Lightning flashed and instantly there was a loud crash of thunder. The wind picked up. Rain pounded down on the roof, filling the house with it's sound. The wind screamed, shrieking as if someone were slashing into it with a butcher knife. 

Kat closed her eyes. Her senses overwhelmed in the maddening crescendo of the storm. Lighting, rain, wind, and thunder were deafening. Kat preferred it that way. No one could hear her sobs.

Kat pressed her face into the side of the couch and let the knot come undone. Deep in her chest she felt the sharp twing of pain. Her cries were as agonized as the tortured wind outside and her tears flowed like the torrents of rain. Caught up in the whirlwind of grief that surged throughout her body, her fingers were like claws as they dug into the sofa. 

A strange darkness enveloped her soul. Black. . . Thick. . . Choking. . . Almost like she had the wind knocked out of her, a thick, black scarf tied around her eyes and someone holding a pillow over her face all at once. She cried in fear, in grief and in anger. How could he. . . How could he. . . Everything seemed so wrong.

Outside, the storm had spent its strength. The wind died down, freshly fallen rain dripped slowly from the leaves of the tree, thunder rumbled in the distance as the storm moved on. Kat heard a car door slam, her family was back.

She got up quickly, running upstairs before they could come in and see her. Kat closed the door to her room and through herself on her bed. Fresh tears came as she sobbed into her pillow. All around Kat were her soft and warm stuffed animals. On her dresser was a collection of dolls. The walls were a lovely shade of pink.

Outside her window the sun had emerged, smiling brightly in the newly clean. Kat turned her head and glared at the happy, smiling orb. How could anyone be happy when. . . When. . .

She buried her face in her pillow to stifle her cries, shoulders heaving. Presently, she fell asleep.

The soft glow of the moon bathed Jerusalem in a pleasant silver light. The city was quiet, sleepy almost. It was late in the evening.

Kat awoke with a start, leaning against a tree. She looked around in wonder. This was no modern Jerusalem; this looked like the Jerusalem of 33 B. C. Kat stood up slowly, hardly daring to believe that she was where she was. But here it was.

A smile spread itself across her face and she raised her eyes to the bright stars and thanked their Maker. She looked down and saw rising up to meet her, a path that led down into the valley. Kat could barely contain her excitement.

Wasting not another moment, Kat took off down the steep path. Racing down, she urged herself faster. It looked like it was late and she didn't know how long it would take Judas . . .

The ground leveled out on the valley floor and Kat slowed a little, looking around. The night air was cool, but it was completely silent. Eerily silent. The only sound was Kat's jogging feet and her noisy breath. The valley floor was a kind of graveyard, the graves gleaming ghost like in the moonlight. 

A tremor of fear slid down Kat's spine and she unconsciously crossed herself in the name of the father, and the son, and the spirit. Twice, she thought she heard someone or something behind her. Turning her head with a gasp, Kat could only see shadows in the moonlight. She whispered a prayer to her guardian and then pushed her feet faster.

Up ahead was the Mount of Olives, up ahead was him. Tonight she and he would meet, face to face . . . Kat through back her head and her laughter wafted up to the stars. Then, the laugh died in her throat and Kat stopped dead in her tracks.

This was no happy time. Tomorrow, he would die. . . Die slowly, die in terrible agony. Not only agony of the body but agony of the mind. The agony of being betrayed by his closest friends, of knowing that some would never know his love for them, of knowing that his beloved mother would watch his torment . . . And most of all, his own father would turn away his holy face from the one he had sent. He would seemingly abandon his only son. . .

Kat ached terribly for him. "But I'll be there Jesus," she whispered to the night air. 

No one answered.

She began to run again, faster and faster. . . Up ahead was the Mount of Olives. A few miles beyond was Martha and Mary's house. A place where he could receive provisions for beyond Mary and Martha's house. . . They would never find him. . . 

"Don't you know Jesus. . . Don't you know they're coming to get you? Don't you know that they'll strip you and shame you? Don't you know that they'll whip you and crown you with thorns? Don't you know that they'll crucify you? Don't you know that they'll kill you?

"Why aren't you running Jesus? Why? You're strong, you could get away. . . Why aren't you running? You don't have to do this, do you?"

That thought. . . It made Kat draw in a deep breath.

Was Jesus so in love with me, with everyone, that he couldn't he help but do this? Could it be that he would do this just for love? Not just love for his creation, but love for his Father? Could it be that the Creator was head over heels in love with his creatures? That he would do anything, even be shamed, and die in torment, that they could one day spend eternity with him?

I'll ask Jesus. . .

Kat stopped among the trees, an awful stitch in her side, finally making it to the Mount. She looked around her new surroundings, wheezing painfully. The little forest was very quiet. Kat strained to hear.

She heard a loud snore. Her heart began to beat even faster then it already was from the running.

Kat walked quickly towards the sound.

There, laying against trees and on the ground were the apostles. There were John, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, writers of the Gospels. There was Thomas, the Doubter. . . Poor Thomas. And then there was Peter. He was the one snoring. Kat couldn't help but smile.

Carefully, she picked her way among the one-day to be Saints and then walked on. About twenty feet from the apostles she stopped and looked around.

Where was he? Kat was getting frantic, what if Judas came before she found him? What if she never got to see him? Oh please, please, please, please, please. . .

"Hello my little one," said a voice behind her.


	2. In the Garden

_JESUS_

It was all Kat could do not to scream his name and wake the apostles. She turned and found herself quite suddenly in the arms of her light, her lover, her savior. . .

_It was bliss, it was blinding pleasure, it was happiness, it was joy, and it was glory. . ._

Kat had never known anything that could compare to the feeling that swelled through her body, just because he had put his arms around her. Was that love that thrilled through her body?

Then Kat was crying, sobbing softly into Jesus' neck.

"Shhhh," he rubbed her back," it's alright Kat."

"Jesus," she whispered, his name felt so good in her mouth. . . "Oh Jesus," she looked up," Are you alri. . ." She stopped. Even in the darkness she could see the half dried blood on his face and in his hair. Then she realized that he was trembling. She moved her hand to his neck, his pulse was racing. "Jesus, what's wrong." It was a stupid question.

Jesus looked away, towards the apostles. Kat saw the pain flicker across his face as he looked at his best friends, sleeping while he was in such terrible anguish. More awful to Kat was that Jesus wasn't angry. He was hurt and sad and alone on his last night before he died. By this time tomorrow, Jesus would be dead on a cross.

Kat choked and looked down, pushing the thought from her mind.

"Come," said Jesus," come little one, come with me. Comfort me, you are the only one tonight. You and my father in heaven."

"I love you Jesus," Kat thought, tears spilling down her face," I don't want you to die." She took his hand and he led her up through the trees.

They emerged out onto a little outlook. Far away, across the trees and the gloomy valley, was Jerusalem.

Jesus sat down, looking out towards the city. Kat sat beside him, putting her arms around him and hugging him tight. Jesus bent his head, a tear slipping down his face. "I'm afraid."

"I would be too," said Kat.

Jesus looked to her and a smile appeared suddenly on his face. "I am glad you are here."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else tonight," Kat said softly after a long moment. "I couldn't leave you out here all by yourself the night before you die. I couldn't bear you to be in such anguish and. . Have to bear it alone. I wish. . . I wish you didn't have to bear it at all."

Jesus put an arm around her and squeezed her. "I have to bear it Kat," he said," or else lose what is dearest to me, my fathers will and my own." They were quiet for a long while.

Kat looked at Jesus's face in the moonlight, thinking very quietly to herself that there had never been anyone so handsome as him. Surely he was the most handsome of all men.

"Am I your own?" She asked.

"My beloved is mine. . ."

"And I am his," Kat hugged him. "I am all his."

Jesus laughed, a sound that made Kat's heart flutter. To have made him happy on the most anguished night of his entire life. . . 

"Jesus," Kat asked," do you love me?" Not because she doubted, but because she wanted to hear it from his own lips.

"I love you," said Jesus, smiling at her. 

Kat glanced around, making sure that no one was watching them. Then she cupped a hand to Jesus's ear. "I think you're cute," she whispered.

That made him laugh again. Kat closed her eyes, listening to the wonderful sound. It made her happy to hear him laugh. It was the most joyous sound she had ever heard and strangely, it was comforting.

Then Jesus stopped laughing and Kat felt his body stiffen. She opened her eyes and asked quickly what was wrong. Jesus stood and pointed out across the valley. Kat stood.

There on the road, still a good two miles distant, were the lights of torches. Kat stared. She heard Jesus take a long breath and blow it out slowly. "So soon my little one," he said and his voice ached with sorrow," so soon we must part." He turned to her. "I wish that we could spend another hour together here in the garden."

Kat through her arms around him and began to sob and wail. "But you CAN'T go," she cried," they'll kill you and take you away and I'll never see you again. . ."

"Kat," said Jesus, the tone of his voice made her look up. He saw her grief and he embraced her quietly. His voice was soft as he spoke. "Beloved, know that death could never part us. Know that nothing could part you from my love, I would never allow myself to be parted from you. . ."

"But what if I go to hell?" Kat asked.

Jesus gave a cry of anguish and crushed her to him. 

"Kat, oh my darling Kat, never speak of going to hell," he looked down into her eyes. Kat couldn't bare the terrible pain in his eyes. "Kat," he said softly, and he was trembling," my little one, nothing hurts me more then when my own choose to reject me forever."

"Is that why some go to hell?" Kat asked. "Because they reject you?"

"Nothing that anyone could ever do to sin and go against my will could ever be worse then the pain I fell when my own leave me forever," there were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, "I am Just Kat, sins must be paid for but. . ."

"Surely we deserve it."

"Perhaps but I do not wish it, I would do anything to keep my own from. . . Hell."

Kat was quiet. "Who are your own?"

"I am the God of everyone, all are my own and I love them each the same as you." Jesus kissed her forehead. 

"Now my little one, see why I must go?"

"Jesus," Kat asked.

"Yes."

"Do you need us? You are God, couldn't you be happy without us?"

Jesus cocked his head and looked down at her, his brown eyes serious. "I can't think of life without my people."

"Do you love us that much?"

"Yes." Jesus looked up at the torches. "Kat, I want you to hide here where they won't find you."

Kat began to protest but Jesus shook his head.

"I will not have you hurt," he looked at her.

"I will follow you," she said stubbornly," I can't let you die alone."

"Your Guardian will watch over you. Promise me Kat that you will not do anything that will endanger yourself."

"I won't," said Kat softly," I promise. Oh Jesus," she hugged him tight, feeling the tears forming in her eyes and blinking them back," I never want to let go of you." She choked back a sob. Slowly, she let her arms drop from around Jesus and they stood in the moonlight looking at each other.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, blinking very hard now.

Jesus smiled. "I'll come for you every Sunday." He reached out and touched her cheek. Kat shut her eyes to keep the tears back. "If you meet my mother," his voice broke and he stopped for a moment before going on," tell her that I love her."

"I will," said Kat, now unable to stop from crying. "Good. . . Good-bye Jesus."

"Farewell," said the Lord, then he turned and walked back to the apostles.

Kat stood in the moonlight, tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. Then slowly, she followed Jesus, hiding by a tree near the disciples.

"Are you still sleeping?" She heard Jesus say to them. "Behold, the hour where I am to be handed over to the hands of wicked men is here. Get up, let us go. See," Kat saw the torches all led by one man," my betrayer is already here."

Judas.


	3. Betrayed

It's been a long while since I updated. ::grins sheepishly:: and every left those great reviews. (THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED!!!) So heres the third chapter. The next couple should come pretty quick. (I'm home schooled and we're taking off all of Thanksgiving week!!!)  
By the way, I'm not writing this based on one particular gospel, it's really from all of them.  
By the other way, Kat is short for Katherine which is Catherine, (Like my patron saint Catherine of Siena), only spelled with a 'K'. I'm going to turn on the sad music now. . .  
This chapter is dedicated to Rockin Lily because. . . Because she's a really cool person. :)

  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Kat stared at the man storming up the hill towards Jesus. His swarthy face was darkened with anger and shadows flickered across it in the torchlight. His eyes were fixed wrathfully on Jesus.  
He stood, watching as Judas came right up to him and stopped.   
"Peace Rabbi," he said, eyes shifting nervously.  
"My friend," said Jesus, grasping him by the shoulders which made the other man start," do what you have come for."  
Judas stared at him for a moment. . . And then a look of outrage came over his face and he kissed Jesus bruiseingly on the check before shoving the Christ away and shoving his way back through he crowd.  
The soldiers stepped forward to lay hands on him.  
Kat jumped up, tears streaming down her face but suddenly very angry. But hands she could not see held her fast and would not let her go, though she was nearly crying with anger. Then, she saw Peter ahead of her, his sword drawn, running towards the soldiers. She saw him strike at a man. She saw the man scream and hold his ear. Kat stopped struggling, smiling suddenly as the soldiers back away.   
Good, now they'd leave Jesus alone. . .  
"Put up your sword," Jesus stepped between Peter and the servant and Kat shrunk back when he shot her a reproving glance. She could feel his gaze for a moment longer and then he turned back to Peter. "Don't you know that my father could, at a moments notice, provide me with no less then twelve legions of angels?"  
Peter backed away, reproved.  
Jesus knelt beside the wounded man who was sobbing. He touched the ear gently and suddenly, it was whole. A murmur ran through the huge crowd and some backed further away.  
Jesus stood up straight, looking over the crowd. "Am I criminal?" He asked. "That you come out after to me armed with swords and clubs? I sat teaching every day in the temple but you made no move on me," the entire crowd cowered before him and Jesus seemed ready to set them to flight, Kat felt hopeful.  
Then Jesus's shoulders slumped. "But this is your hour," he said, and his voice was soft," the triumph of darkness."  
The soldiers nerve came back and they stepped forward and roughly took hold of Jesus. The disciples fled, abandoning Jesus.  
All at once, the image of the crucifix in church flashed before Kat's eyes. Suddenly she was throwing herself forward, screaming and screaming. Every fiber of her being desperate to save Jesus. But the hands held her back again and she was powerless to reach him and her scream were obviously not reaching anyone. Kat kept screaming and fighting, she had to get to Jesus.  
Then, her savior, her only love, her sunshine and her light turned his head and looked at her. He smiled at her, sadly but it was a smile, and mouthed 'I love you'. The soldiers jerked him and he turned back around.  
Kat crumpled to the ground and sobbed her heart out. She tore at the ground, her tears falling like rain.  
Someone put a hand on her shoulder. Kat made herself look up. Above her was a man, dressed like Jesus and the apostles, but with his face covered. Kat, still crying, was frightened before realizing who he was.  
"Are you my-my Guardian?" She asked softly.  
He nodded. "Do you want to go home little one?"  
Kat shook her head. "No, no I want to stay with Jesus. He's going to be all alone. . ."  
"Come then," the angel said," let us go. Remember, I will be with you, even when your eyes can't see me."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Kat entered into the courtyard of the High Priest but was unable to get into the house even though she tried every way she could. Near tears, she joined some others around a fire in the courtyard. She held her hands out to the fire but even the heat didn't seem to warm her any.  
"You aren't one of his disciples are you?" She heard one maid ask a man and with a start, Kat recognized Peter.  
"No, no," Peter gave a nervous little laugh. "I'm not."  
Kat shuddered and looked up, the sky was becoming lighter.  
"Weren't you with Jesus?" Another maid asked.  
Peter shook his head. "I am not with him." Kat heard shouts erupt within the house and she turned anxiously towards them.  
"But I thought I saw you in the garden with him," another persisted further," surely you are Galilean, even your accent gives you away."  
Peter turned from them with an oath. "I swear I do not know the man." He stopped, completely still.  
Soldiers, lead by Caiaphas and the elders, were dragging Jesus out. His face was bruised and there was spit running down it. He looked exhausted and his eyes were filled with a deep pain as they met Peter's.  
Simon Peter gave a strangled sob. He whirled and ran out, weeping as he went.  
"Oh Peter, Peter," Kat whispered.  
A man by her looked at her sharply, Kat looked at him questionably.  
"You know Peter?" He asked.  
Kat was startled. "Are you. . . Are you John?"  
The man nodded. "I am and who are you."  
"I'm Kat. Oh John we can't let them hurt Jesus. We just can't," she grabbed the arm of his coat and looking up at him with tears in her eyes.  
John looked troubled. "He hasn't done anything wrong Kat and I hope that is enough to keep him safe." He bit his lip, obviously very worried. "Come with me Kat. They are taking him to Pilate." 


	4. Judas

*****Author's Note*****

The last two reviews I got for this were flames  
::sigh::  
Anyways. . . This is the first thing I wrote for FF.net and I'm kind of very attached to it. (An actual fic based on events of the Bible too!)  
It upset some fundamentalists, alas, but I love it anyway.  
Reviews are very much appreciated. (I know a fair amout about the times in which Jesus lived and some about the crucifixion but I'm not an expert.)  
I think I'll be very quiet now. . .

  
  
  
They walked swiftly after the crowd, neither speaking. John's mouth was set in a clenched line. Kat could only watch up ahead, straining for a glance of Jesus's back.

"Surely Pilate won't kill an innocent man," John said after a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists anxiously. "Jesus has done nothing wrong. . . They'll release him, they have to."

Kat felt her insides knot up. An unspeakable terror rising in her chest as she remembered what day of the week it was.

Friday. Good Friday.

"Jesus," Kat whispered," not this. Please not this. . ."

John stopped abruptly. His faced contorted with fury. "Judas," he hissed.

Kat looked up and saw Iscariot walking quickly past them, a bundle of rope under his arm. His eyes were red and swollen, his hair disarrayed

"He betrayed the master," John whispered. His voice shook with barely suppressed rage and he followed the other man with his eyes. 

Judas stopped abruptly. He turned slowly and looked at John. For a long moment, the two stood and stared at each other.

"Come Kat," John said finally, turning and continuing hurriedly after the quickly retreat mob," we will have nothing to do with him."

Kat stood quite still, her thoughts flashing back to what Jesus had told her the night before. About how he was hurt when he lost a child forever.

"Judas!" she cried and took off after him.

They were outside of the city before she caught up to him.

"Judas," she cried, running to keep up with his quick stride," Judas please listen. . ."

"Go away little girl," Judas said and his voice broke," this is something your eyes should not see."

"It's not worth it-"

"Not worth it!?!" Judas swung around on Kat so abruptly that she took a step back. "Do you know what I have done?" He covered his face with his hands and began to sob brokenly. "I betrayed an innocent man," he whispered, sobs shaking his body. "I betrayed the master, I betrayed the master. . ."

After a moment, Judas wiped his eyes and bent to pick up the coils of rope which had fallen to the ground. "They'll kill him," he said to Kat. "The Pharisees are mad with jealousy. I've killed the master as surely as if it were my hands which will drive the nails. I do not deserve to live, I am worthless. . ." They came to a tree. Judas began to tie the rope.

Panic overtook Kat. She grabbed the rope and tried to wrestle it away from Judas.

"Let go!!!" He yelled, shoving Kat to the ground. "I must do this!" He finished hurriedly, placing the noose around his neck and climbing up into the tree to jump.

Kat sat in the grass where he had shoved her. She couldn't help the tears that were streaming down her face and the sobs that were shaking her body.

"But you're going to hurt him," she cried.

Judas stopped and looked at her. "Haven't I hurt him enough? Betraying him to a certain and painful death?" He closed his eyes and looked away. "The master will never. .. Will never love me again. . ." A tear oozed from the corner of one eyelid and trickled slowly down his cheek. "He will not want me in his kingdom."

"But he does love you," Kat said," he will always love you. There is nothing you can do to stop him from loving you. You could drive the nails with your own hands and he would love you with every breath in his body and every fiber of his being. Don't you see, if you are not with him, you will hurt him more then your betrayal ever could."

Judas looked at her. "I do not deserve his love," and he jumped.

Kat buried her face in her hands, weeping as Judas's body swung back and forth.

"Oh Judas. . ." She whispered. "He does love you."

Perhaps. . . 

Judas could feel his life leaving him. The world was drifting away. The girl's sobs were becoming fainter.

But. . . Would he really hurt the master? Could it be that the master still love him? Deep within himself, Judas knew the answer. . .

Oh Lord, forgive me. . .

* * *

His body ached fiercely from the beatings. His robes were torn and dirty. His back throbbed in time with the beat of his heart. Pain filled him like flames.

But as the guards threw him roughly to the marble floor before Pilate, there was a small smile on his face. 


	5. A Note

I promised to be civil and so I'm going to try even it kills me, which it might.

I realize that to some people, "romance" means sticking your tongue in another person's mouth, inappropriate touching, removal of clothing and so and so forth. I don't know way, it makes little sense to me. I think it really is that people don't really know what love is and so they label anything of an intimate nature as "love", but that's beside the point.

When I say "romance" I mean interaction between two beings who love each other. In the story, I believe that anyone could put themselves in Kat's place and act much in the same way. Guys aren't that into peeking other guys on the cheek so that would be different I think. People assume that Jesus would require stuff like sex to be intimate with someone, something that's not really true.

I think that I started writing this partly because it was a daydream of mine to be with Jesus when he died, when he doesn't seem to have anyone else, but also because of all the pieces that other people have written about the, ahem, "romance" Jesus had with other. I will admit that I am a little over protective.

I realize that some people have the childish urge to make fun of the beliefs and faith of others. I realize that some people think it's _fun_ to upset others by writing things about Jesus that is so demeaning. This is, of course, childish as I have said and very immature. I expect more but people disappoint me.

This isn't, of course, addressed to my reviewers (Thank you Angel and Heavenstone words truly do not express my gratitude, and Beans and Ourea and all the other peoples who reviewed:) I'll give the benefit of the doubt to some of the others.

I don't really mind getting flamed for putting the word "romance" in the title and genre. I would much prefer to get a flame from someone who thought I was doing the wrong sort of "romance", their heart is very much in the right place and I appreciate them. Knowing that there are still people out their willing to defend Jesus rests me easy.

Lol, if I was reading the story I would be very skeptical of it:) So I'll warn people, I am **_extremely_** protective of my Jesus, and I would be dead several times over without him. I need him more then I need food or anything else. Please ::being very civil:: do not talk about Jesus and "sex" in the same sentence around me.


	6. Before Pilate

****

I have no clue what the praetorium looked like. 

Chapter 4

Before Pilate

Kat didn't know how long she knelt and cried. The long, worry full night without sleep was telling deeply on her. Exhausted and sick at heart, she was unable to stop the sobs that shook her body without mercy. She cried until her throat ached and all her tears were gone, her eyes and cheeks felt hot and swollen and her nose ran.

Someone laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Come little one," her guardian said quietly. The angel's strong face was gentle. "The Lord is before Pilate."

Kat stared up at him for a moment. A slight tremor went through her body. "Can I go to him? Oh please," she rose unsteadily to her feet, taking hold of the angel's sleeve," please will you take me to him?"

He nodded. "Are you sure you want to see this, little one? You know what will happen."

Kat clenched her fists anxiously at her sides. "Does it have to happen? Can't there be some other way? There must be some other way."

"The sin debt must be paid," his voice showed no emotion but his face was hard.

Kat looked down. "Can't someone else do it?" She looked up, cautiously hopeful. "Maybe me? Could I take his place? Oh please, I can't just stand by and watch them kill him," tears trembled in her eyes.

"An omission against an infinite god requires infinite contrition, something you cannot give and you are blemished. Only the perfect Lamb of God could pay this debt," the angel looked away for a moment. "It isn't easy to stand by, but you do and so you must."

"But-"

"Do you want to go home?"

Kat looked down. "No," she whispered. "If it has to happen, then I will be with him," she bit her lip in steely resolve. 

Her guardian nodded his smile gentle. "Then come with me." He put a protective arm around Kat.

The ground tilted violently.

They stood in a large marble hall. Kat turned quickly, and saw Jesus on the floor at the feet of a man in a scarlet cloak. It was Pilate.

He struck Kat as arrogant; looking slightly bored as he surveyed the man at his feet. Kat's heart ached at the sight of Jesus, tears springing back to her sore eyes.

"I'm here," she whispered. "I won't leave you."

Jesus turned his head slightly to look at her. A smile crossed his bruised face. Kat swallowed hard, blinking against the tears. He was being betrayed and denied, facing torture and death and he was trying to comfort her.

"Jesus," Kat whispered, raising her hands and taking a step forward. 

Her guardian grasped her shoulder, gentle but firm. "You may not go to him Kat. You must stand and watch."

Kat stared into the depthless eyes of her Lord, seeing a love she could never return completely and a pain that she could not take away. She crumpled to the floor, weeping. 

Jesus turned his head back to Pilate.

"Are you the king of the Jews?" The roman asked.

"Are you saying this on your own, or have others told you?"

Pilate laughed. "I am no Jew. Your own nation and High Priests have delivered you here, what have you done to deserved this."

Jesus looked down. "My kingdom is not of this world," he said," for if it were, my people would be fighting to save me. As it is, my kingdom is not here."

__

I'd fight for you Jesus. Kat leapt to her feet but the angel caught her.

"No Kat, you must watch."

"Then you are king?" Said Pilate, amused.

"You are right in saying I am a King," Jesus said quietly, looking up to meet Pilate's eyes and the roman was forced to look away. "For this reason I was born and for this reason I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me."

"What is truth," asked Pilate and then went out to the Jews, of whom a great crowd had assembled.

"I find no basis for the charge against him," he shouted out over the restless crowd. "But it is your custom for me to release one prisoner at the time of Passover. Shall I release the "king of the Jews" for you?"

But the chief priests and elders had made their way among the peoples, convincing them to ask for another.

"Barabbas," the cry went up. "We want Barabbas!!!"

Pilate frowned and then walked back inside.

Kat held tightly to her guardian's hand. "He will release him, won't he?" She entreated. "Pilate said that he didn't find anything against him," she looked up at her angel, pleading with him to deny what was happening.

The angel remained silent.

"Oh God," Kat whispered through her tears," why does He let him do this?"

Pilate came back to Jesus and stood looking at the man on the floor for a long moment. Finally, he straightened and signaled one of the guards. "Scourge him."

********

The soldiers striped Jesus of his clothes and bound him roughly to a post. The entire cohort assembled to watch, and to jeer at this foolish Jew.

The roman legionnaire stepped forward and Kat caught her breath at the sight of the horrible looking whip in his hand.

"It's called a flagellum," her guardian said.

"They aren't really going to hurt him with that are they?" Kat asked. The angel did not meet her eyes. "But they can't!?!" She cried. "They can't hurt him. He's the Son of God! He's the Christ! He's. . . He's. . ." Her voice trailed off helplessly. Her eyes filled with tears. "He's Jesus. . ."

The flagellum, a short whip, consisted of several leather thongs with two lead balls attached to the ends of each.

The scourging began. The roman was strong, the bulging muscles in his arm standing out as he raised the whip above his head and then brought it down into Jesus' back. Again and again, it was brought down swiftly and without mercy into the back of the man. At first, it did not break the skin but raised huge bruises, mottled purple and yellow. Finally, the bruises broke and he bled from the cuts.

Whomp, whomp, again and again the sound like a stick striking a flank of meat.

The whip cut deeper into the back, into the muscles themselves. Blood, the deep red of when it comes flooding, flowed from his back. It oozed from the raw muscles.

The roman was without mercy, not stopping until Jesus' back was an unrecognizable mass of torn, bleeding tissue. Raw flesh, raw nerve endings. . .

Kat was screaming. She had stood dumb and mute, until his flesh broke open. She threw herself forward, screaming anger and hatred. Her guardian did not stop her as she jumped at the roman legionnaire, her fingers curled into claws, reaching for his throat.

She slammed into an invisible wall, interposed between herself and the roman. Dazed but not hurt, she got up and stared. The roman, who obvious could not see her, brought the whip down over Jesus' shoulders. Jesus staggered against the post, breathing hard as warm sticky blood trickled down his back.

Kat stared; trying to convince herself that this was a nightmare. "No. . ." With a scream that cut straight to the bone, she through herself against the wall, beating at it wildly with her fists, kicking it, anything to knock it down, to get through to him.

__

Jesus. . .

She would choke the life out of the roman with that whip, make him think a couple times before he ever went near Jesus again. She'd save Jesus, bandage up his wounds, put him to bed for a couple days. Her guardian would help, John would help, but God wouldn't let her. He wouldn't let her through to him.

"DAMN YOU!!!" Kat screamed her shrill voice grating painfully on the nerves. "DAMN YOU!!! HOW CAN YOU!?!?! HOW CAN LET THEM HURT HIM LIKE THIS!?! DON'T YOU LOVE YOUR OWN SON!?! Oh God, dear heavenly Father, why. . ." Her voice trailed off in a high sucking sound.

Why? Sobbing helplessly, she slid down the wall and crumpled weakly on the floor. Why did he have to be hurt like this? Couldn't they just kill him? Did God really have to let this happen? Why? Why?

And on and on, relentless on her ears, came the sound of the lead balls biting into raw flesh, that sickening thunking, and Jesus' sounds of pain. Every moment, Kat thought it would stop, it _had _to stop. But it didn't.It kept going. 

Oh God, how long would this last? They were going to kill him! 

"Oh God," Kat begged, voice breaking into sobs," please, oh please. . . Just let it stop. . ."


	7. Before Pilate cont

****

Chapter Four

Before Pilate

Continued 

And then mercifully. . . Blessedly. . . God seemed to hear her cry. 

One final, violent stroke was brought down on Jesus's shoulders, then the flagellum was pulled free from his back and set aside. Shuddering with soft sobs, Kat brought herself to look up. Her eyes grew wide and filled quickly as she beheld her lord.

There was no skin on Jesus's back. Layer by layer, it had skillfully been taken off until the muscle hung in shreds over exposed bones. 

"Jesus. . . Oh Jesus. . ." Kat whispered through her blinding tears. She reached out her arms towards him, crying out to be held in his arms.

As the Romans untied him and lifted him to his feet, Christ looked back to her. His gentle eyes, so beautiful brown, were filled with pain. Kat couldn't bear it, she leapt up and tried to run to him.

"No Kat," her guardian caught her shoulder. "No."

The fight left her, and she sank back to the floor, having no choice but to be a passive witness.

One of the soldiers threw a purple cloak around Jesus's torn and bleeding shoulders, while another wove a crown out of long thorns and placed it on the his head. They placed a reed in his hand, and then mocked him.

One bowed low to the floor, leering. "All hail, King of the Jews."

The others laughed as another took the reed from Jesus's hand and struck him about the head. The long, sharp thorns dug deeper into the scalp's tender flesh. Blood welled and flowed down Jesus's face like tears. 

Jesus watched his tormenters, with pity and with great love.

Kat frantically turned to her guardian. "Can't you do anything?" She pleaded, taking hold of his robe. "Please? Can't you help him? Aren't you an angel, can't you do anything??? How can you just stand by and watch!?!" Her eyes were bright with tears, glaring furiously up at the guardian angel.

The angel watched her sadly. "Kat," he said quietly. "Did you not hear the Lord? If he asked, the Father would supply more then twelve legions to hasten to His aid."

Kat stared at him. "But. . . But. . . But why doesn't He ask? Why not!?! Jesus," her voice broke and she had to stop.

"It is His will, and the will of the Father," he said with finality, as if that explained everything.

"But he doesn't deserve it!!! He is perfect, He never did anything wrong in His life!!! Why! Why!?!" Kat shrieked, slamming a fist down into the ground.

"Because He loves you."

Kat glared at him through her tears. "I did not ask Him to do this," she hissed. "I never would have asked Him to do this. Never! I love Him, I would never let Him hurt like this."

"But you have," said her angel. "You have Kat."

She was speechless, her mouth working for a moment before she found her voice. "No!!!"

"Yes," the angel held her gaze grimly," you have. You hurt the Lord everyday. Every time you choose to turn away, it hurts Him like you cannot even begin to imagine. Why do you think He is doing this? He loves you Kat, more then you can ever know, but the debt that you owe, you cannot pay and it must be paid for you to join with Him in eternity."

"It must be paid?" Kat whispered, her mind whirling, trying to understand what she had just been told.

"Yes. It must be paid and there is no other way besides this. It will be paid," the angel pointed to Jesus," in His blood."

Kat turned slowly to look at Jesus, and he met her eyes. "You mean," Kat began softly," You mean. . . This is, _my _doing?" The angel nodded, but she didn't see him. She could only look back into Christ's face, and see the pain there. Tremendous pain, that still could not hide the terrible love in his face.

She shook her head, denying. "No. No, it's not my fault. It's. . . It's," she threw herself towards Jesus on her knees, arms extended. "Please, oh God have mercy on me, please don't do this. . . I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy, I don't deserve your love and you don't deserve to go through this. Jesus, please listen, please don't do this for me. . . Please, please, I love you so much. I-I can't stand to see you hurting like this," tears fell freely down her face. "Please," she pleaded. "Please, this hurts so much. Oh my God. . . Please don't do this to me."

Jesus just watched her in silence, the soldiers still at his feet mocking. 

Kat clenched her fists and struck the floor again, screaming shrilly in anger. "WHY!?!?! I NEVER ASKED YOU TO DO THIS FOR ME!!! I DON'T WANT YOU TO DO THIS FOR ME!!! GOD!!! LISTEN TO ME!!! DAMN ME!!! DAMN ME TO HELL!!! BUT DON'T DO THIS!!! DON'T YOU DARE LET YOURSELF HURT LIKE THIS!!!" She looked furiously at Jesus, to see if he would call the legions of angels now. 

A tear was trickling down his bloody cheek as he looked at her. Kat stared back into Jesus's sad eyes, seeing the truth in his somber steady gaze. He wasn't accusing, he wasn't angry, he was just. . . Sad. Somehow, that hurt more.

Kat stared at him. He loved her, she thought, he loved her so much that he was going to be hurt and hurt and humilated and bloodied and bruised and. . . And die. He was going to suffer and die, because he loved her.

Kat began to tremble, tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto floor. She had never hurt like this before, it was like her heart was being ripped apart. To be the cause, as Judas had said, it might as well have been her hands that will drive the nails.

With a sob, she hugged her knees. Rocking back and forth while she cried. 

"Why," she whispered softly, rubbing her face in her arms. "Why? Why can't you hate me? Couldn't you hate me just a little bit? Just a little?" She choked, looking up at him again, dreading and yet hoping that she might see anger in his eyes.

There was none. Jesus was staring at her, love fierce in his face, his jaw set. Pilate called, and the soldiers took his arms. He continued to look at her as the soldiers led him outside to Pilate.

Kat could hear the crowd yelling at Pilate and Pilate yelling back. She knew what was happening, that Jesus was about to receive the death sentence, and that she was to blame.

"There there," her angel murmured, kneeling down beside her. "It's alright Kat. . ."

"No. . . It's not," she sniffed. "He's going to die, because he has to die for me, and there's nothing I can do about it, oh angel," she hugged him tightly, buried her face in his shoulder and wept.

Pain, suffering, death, and worst of all, he couldn't even hate her for it. . .

**Please leave a review**

A warm, warm thank you to all my lovely reviewers. You all bring a smile to my face.


	8. Before Pilate finished

****

Chapter Four

Before Pilate (finished at last)

The Roman soldiers hauled Jesus upright at Pilate's command. Bare feet slidding on the bloody floor, Jesus struggled to walk out to Pilate.

Kat jumped up, tears streaming down her face, and followed.

"Behold!" Pilate was shouting. "I find no wrong in this man!"

"He must die," screamed a voice from the crowd and other's joined it. "Crucify him!!! Crucify him!!!"

"What wrong has he committed!?!" Pilate exclaimed, fists clenching and unclenching in exasperation.

"He made himself the Son of God!!!" The angry cry came from the crowd. 

Kat watched as something like fear flickered over Pilate's face as he turned quickly to Jesus. "He should believe them," she whispered, half to herself and half to her Guardian. "He should know that it is true. No one could look in those eyes and not know."

"He has free will," her Guardian said softly, sadly. "Just like you, he can turn his head away and let it happen."

Kat bit her lip, digging her fingernails into her palms in an effort to keep from crying as she watched Pilate approach Jesus. The praetor's eyes were alight with anger and nervous fear.

"Where do you come from?" Pilate hissed, circling Jesus.

There was no answer.

"Will you not speak to me!?" Pilate cried, jaw clenched. "Do you not know that I have the power to release you, and I have the power to crucify you!!!"

Jesus looked up slowly, meeting Pilate's eyes. "You would have no power over me," he said quietly," if it were not given to you from above. For this reason, the one who handed me over to you has committed the greater sin."

Pilate stumbled as he backed quickly away, unable to look away from the penetrating gaze. His breath rasped loudly in his throat for a moment before he found his voice. "Release him," he whispered. "Release him, now. Release him!"

Kat exclaimed with joy as the guards leapt forward to undue the bonds.

"No!" The chief priest screamed. "No! Crucify him!!! We want Barabass!!! Crucify him!!! Crucify him!!! Crucify him!!!"

"No!" Kat cried, but it was too late as the crowd began to cry Jesus's death. "No! Pilate, you can't!!!"

"Any man," said the chief priest, glaring," who makes himself a king is no friend of Caesar. If you release him, you are no friend of Caesar."

Pilate's eyes darted back and forth between the silent Jesus and the screaming crowd, seeing that they were ready to riot. It was about noon. He turned his back on the crowd and stared at Jesus, who did not meet his eyes.

"Water," Pilate said, holding up a hand to halt his soldiers. "Bring me water!"

A bowl of water was brought, and Pilate washed his hands before the crowd. "I wash my hands of this matter," he cried, holding his dripping hands high. "I am innocent of the blood of this man, the responsibility is yours!!!" 

"Then let his blood be upon us and upon our children," cried the chief priest, and the other roared their approval.

Pilate turned to the nearest soldier, avoiding looking at Jesus. "Crucify him."

"NO!!!" Kat screamed. She leapt forward before her guardian could react and threw her arms around Jesus. "No, you can't die! I won't let you! You can't die," she held him tight, weeping. "Please Jesus, if you love me, don't do this to me. . ."

"Kat," Jesus said. "Kat, do not ask that of me. Would you truly condemn me to a eternity without you, when I could have saved you? It is my burden, but I bear it gladly. Do not weep, my child, joy cometh in the morning. I will pay your debt, and after that, it is your choice. If you truly do not want eternity by my side, then I will not force it on you."

"Oh Jesus," Kat wept. "I don't want you to die. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. . ."

"I know," the Lord said, as the guards took his arms. "I know."

Kat could feel all the strength leaving her as she watched him walk away. "He is going to die," she told her guardian softly as he laid hands on her shoulders. "He's going to die."

"For God so loved the world," the angel said softly. "Come Kat, I will take you back to John. . ."

****

author's note: rather short. 


	9. Via Dolorosa

**Chapter Five**

**Via Dolorosa**

Kat followed blindly behind her guardian as he led her out of the praetorian. Her eyes were still filled with the sight of Jesus's blood upon the floor, and her ears were still filled with the sound of the scourging. Again and again, overwhelming the spectacle of the blood, she saw Him as He gazed at her. Through His own pain and fear, still His love remained fiercely in his eyes.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than feeling in her own heart, the strident longing for His own good and happiness which was so cruelly crushed with every blow of the scourge. More than knowing that He was in pain, weary and hurt nearly unto death. Kat could feel her heart crushed beneath the immense weight of His love, and knowing that all this was because of His love. Knowing that all this was for her. It hurt almost more than she could bear.

_Couldn't you hate me. . . Even just a little bit?_ But He would not hate her, not ever. Kat had the sudden and mad desire to run out and do the worst thing she could think of, and then He would hate her. Then He would not love her so much.

She stopped abruptly, as if someone had called her, and looked back. Barely able to keep His feet as the guards hauled Him out, Jesus still managed somehow to raise his head and, in spite of swollen eyes half-blinded by blood, and looked at her. She stood stock-still, trembling but unable to look away. There could be no mistaking that look. No misunderstanding. He loved her, and He would always love her. No matter what she did, it could not make Him love her the tiniest bit less. She could not run fast enough, there was no where she could hide. He would catch her. He would find her.

Kat wanted to scream, to thrash about, to pound her fists against the ground until all the bones were broken. Instead, she stood and felt His gaze bath her in love. The fight seeped out gradually. He wanted her, loved her. To rage against Him, to hurt Him more, the thought instantly brought the tears back to Kat's eyes.

"Kat," her guardian said, drawing her firmly away. "We must find John. You will stay with him."

"I don't know if. . ." Kat began, but then let her voice trailed off. Could she truly want to be anywhere but here? Even if it raked her raw and left her to bleed, she decided, she would stay. "Please, lead on."

John did not appear surprised to see her, only spared her a compassionate glance and a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They have condemned Him," he told her, gently. "He is to be crucified."

Kat swallowed, and nodded. "I-I know." She sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

Someone wiped her tears with the clean edge of a cloth and a tender hand. Kat looked up and found herself face to face with Mary, Jesus' mother. Kat knew who she was in an instant for through tears and pain lined her face deeply, they could not hide the incomparable beauty in the gentle face.

"You have seen my son," the woman said quietly, knowingly.

The tears fell all the faster, and Kat embraced Mary with a great sob. "He loves you! He told me to tell you!"

Mary wrapped the folds of her mantle around the girl and held her to her breast. "I know," she murmured. "I know He does, as I know He loves you." She touched Kat's face as the child looked up to her, tears still running down her face. "It will be as He wills it."

Another woman laid comforting hands on Kat's shoulders. "Poor child," she whispered to Mary. "This is so much for her eyes to see." Kat looked back at Mary of Magdalene. Despite her kind words, deep worry lined her face. "John, can you see Him?"

John shook his head as he peered above the crowds gathered in the street. "No."

Mary of Magdalene clutched at Mary's hand. "How can this be happening? How can He allow it?"

The virgin gripped her hand. "Have faith," she murmured, but Kat could see that Mary was filled with fear for her son, perhaps more than any of them. Kat felt her heart clench with a new pain. Mary, the sweet mother who comforted her, had no part in this. There was no sin on the heart which soon would pierced with a sword.

Mary of Magdalene took Kat's hand when Mary released her. "And she comforts me," Kat said quietly, awed, to the former prostitute.

Mary of Magdalene sighed, quickly wiping a tear from her own eye. "Yes. She is filled with love and grace. . . But her heart is breaking. O Lord," and she grew distant for a moment, looking towards the praetorian," will You yet be delivered from this? Why, why must He suffer?"

"There!" John suddenly exclaimed, and Kat stood on tip-toe with the women to try and see above the shouting crowd. For a moment, none of them could see anything but waving arms and heads, but then came the soldiers parting the crowd. A great gasp came from Mary when they saw finally saw Jesus.

A purple robe lay across His shoulders, dark and glistening with blood. His hair was matted with blood, and His face disfigured and swollen almost beyond recognition. He staggered beneath the great beam on His shoulder, feet slipping on the stones.

Mary of Magdalene wept unabashedly, her body shuddering with grief. All the blood had drained from Mary's face as she gripped John's arm until her knuckles were as white as her face. Tears trailed slowly down the apostle's face even as he reached out to comfort the sorrowing mother. Kat hugged Mary of Magdalene, struggling to contain her own anguish as all around them, the crowd jeered.

Jesus struggled on beneath the cross, but His steps faltered as He neared them. Mary cried out when He fell, and the heavy beam on top of Him. Before John could stop her, Mary had pushed through the crowd and out into the cleared street among the soldiers. The centurions, for their part, stood still in shock as the little and aged Jewish woman ran to the side of her son.

"Yeshua!" She cried, falling to her knees at his side and trying to push the beam off him. "Yeshua!" She gasped with the effort, but could not move the beam more than the smallest fraction. "O Yeshua, my son. . ."

At last, the guards moved the heavy beam. Mary gently took her son's head in her arms and held Him to her, heedless of the thorns of His crown scraped her skin. "Dear Yeshua," she whispered, trying to smile through the tears. He lifted a weary hand to her face, looking up to His mother.

"I must," Kat heard Him rasp as she and the other Mary drew cautiously closer, holding onto John. "I must."

"Get back, woman." One of the guards pushed Mary away from Jesus, though she wailed to be parted from Him. John sheltered the weeping woman in his arms and watched, together with Kat and Mary of Magdalene, as her son climbed laboriously back to His feet.

The head centurion beckoned to a guard. "He can't carry this all the way to Golgotha. Find someone else. Any of these men will do," he indicated the crowd with a broad sweep of his hand," since they're so eager to see him hang."

The guard looked around, the crowd moved restlessly beneath his gaze, and picked out the man with the broadest shoulders. "You!"

The man, and the two young boys with him, looked warily at the guard. "What do you want?" He asked, crossing his arms.

The guard spat in the dust. "You look strong enough. Come, carry this beam." His mouth twisted in a sneer. "He needs a little help."

"Bu-But I am I here to make a sacrifice at the temple," the man protested as the guard dragged him roughly into the street. "I will have to be purified again after touch the blood."

"Quiet!" The guard growled. "Carry it."

Still grumbling, the man bent and heaved up the beam onto his shoulders. He looked back at Jesus, still struggling to keep His feet, and his expression became one of pity. Jesus lifted His face, looking through eyes nearly shut.

"Thank you. . . Simon," Jesus managed.

Simon of Cyrene showed no surprise at hearing his own name from this condemned criminal. He showed no sigh of having heard what Jesus had said. Simon simply looked into the bloodshot eyes for a long moment before heaving the beam onto one shoulder and reaching out with the other arm to steady the faltering man.

Kat followed with Mary of Magdalene, holding tightly to each others hands. John kept close behind them, half supporting the mother of Jesus who was bent nearly double with grief. "My son," she kept whispered. "My son. . . Yeshua. . ."

The sounds of the street were muted in Kat's ears. She watched Simon ahead of them, staggering under the weight of the cross while still half-dragging Jesus along. "Please," she whispered. "Please, give him strength." The sun above beat down upon them, and Kat's nose was filled with the smell of blood and death.

Again and again, Jesus slipped from Simon's grasp and fell. Each time, Mary exclaimed loudly and tried to go to him. John held her back, though she begged him to let her go, weeping bitterly. Mary of Magdalene turned away the third time, sobbing quietly. Kat could only watch, mutely.

Why could he not just lay down and die? Why did he have to keep rising and going on? Surely this was enough. Surely he had suffered more than enough. How much longer would the Lamb of God be made to continue in agony before it was finished? The questions spun through Kat's head and deep in her heart, she knew that the worst was yet to come.

And ahead of her, she saw the place where once, long ago, an aged man had brought his only son to be sacrificed. Here, where the covenant had begun, it would be ended.

Golgotha, the place of the skull.

Author's Note: So I skipped a few stations . . . There will be, I think four? more chapters. Thanks for reading.


End file.
